


Try me

by bluebells



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Exhibitionism, GNC, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, PIV, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Showerheads and Faucets, Trans Genji Shimada, What are these accidental feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: "Keep looking at me like that.""I should drown you," Jack mutters, even as he sinks to his knees.





	Try me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Thief's Reward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940287) by [AnonymousFragger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousFragger/pseuds/AnonymousFragger). 



> This work is a loose, unofficial, unsanctioned sequel to "A Thief's Reward" because Jack and Genji together are stupidly sexy, and there is too little for this rarepair. Features trans male GNC (gender non-conforming) Genji, for that reason, words used for his genitalia and biology in this story range from male to female to cybernetic because I sometimes forget I'm not writing in the transformers fandom. I sincerely hope nothing causes offence, but if I've missed something important, please let me know.

The late afternoon sun streams in warm and pale from the high window above the tub.

The water rushes in Genji's ears, his head awash with pleasure, when the bathroom door clicks open.

Tipped on his back, feet poised on the brink of the bathtub, he doesn't bother looking up, or to hide what he's doing. He doesn't hear the door shut, but he isn't paying close attention, chest heaving, tilting his head back in the shallow water to cant his hips.

Heavy boots stop on the tile beside the tub. The silence finally draws Genji's eyes open to the man looming over him.

The perspiration from Jack's workout still gleams on his skin, grey tanktop shadowed with his sweat. Loose pants shrug low around his hips like he was about to start undressing for his shower until he noticed the water already running in his bathroom.

Yes, Genji timed it perfectly.

He shudders, full-bodied, at the heat of Jack's glower, dragging from Genji's slow, shameless grin, down his body to where the thick, stream of water from the faucet pounds his cunt.

"Do I need to change my passcode?" Jack growls, and Genji laughs quietly, hips jerking up into that punishing stream because Jack's voice is that blend of annoyed and aroused that goes straight to his core.

It makes his legs spread wider, humming high in his throat when the heavy pressure battering his clit strokes through sensitive lips to his hole, and it's so good, it makes his head light and his hot chest tighten, but it doesn't go deep enough, he wants—

"There are no baths outside command," Genji breathes, shivering under his Commander's undivided attention.

Jack snorts in disbelief. It's true, but he should be used to Genji's shallow excuses by now. His glare is back on Genji's face, and Genji is fucking delighted that Jack can actually tear his eyes up from the very wet and open invitation between his legs. Down low, he clenches around nothing, wills himself to stay open and relaxed so he can feel the hot stream force its way as deep as possible. God, just the presence of Jack standing there, watching Genji laid up open like this almost finishes him, spine bowing with pleasure under the intensity of his gaze.

Genji groans, jaw tight, drinking in Jack's expression, the tense coil of restraint in his posture, hands fisting against his thighs.

"Keep looking at me like that."

"I should drown you," Jack mutters, even as he sinks to his knees.

"Try me," Genji throws back, rolls his hips and it's even better than throwing up his middle finger for the reaction it incites.

Jack grips one of his knees, pulling it wide. His other hand throws one of the handles by the faucet.

Genji shrieks as the stream between his legs intensifies into an almost physical force, thrilling and abruptly cold.

"Ah, Jack!" he squirms, latching on to his shoulder, strong fingers digging in. He folds on himself, feeling like his cunt is being pushed and held open, steady, relentless, it's too hard.

_Fucking—_

Commander or not, thinks about slitting the guy’s throat. But the shock quickly sluices to liquid pleasure as the cold makes his clit harden, makes him clench in anticipation.

Jack stares down at him, like he doesn't register the ninja's bruising grip at all. Genji wants to push that impassively superior face down between his thighs. Jack watches him bite his lower lip and mewl, and this is so much better with Jack's hands on him, with Jack's sweat on the air, towering above him, drinking in the sight of him. It's better than just working from the memory of Jack's long, wickedly strong tongue curling into him.

Although. Fuck.

The ghost sensation of it plays through his body, lathing from the base to the top of his slit with the broad flat of Jack's tongue. Genji's thighs held down and wide. Jack's scruff of beard scraping Genji’s inner thighs as he buries his face and fucks into him, wet and hot, mouth sealed around the lips of Genji’s cunt, sucking him hard enough that he whimpers like he's breaking.

The slow pleasure building over the short minutes before Jack's arrival punches through him.

Genji keens as he comes, body curling forward, shuddering, mouth hanging open. He digs fingers into Jack's sweaty shoulder and lets himself go. Sinks into the pleasure singing through his mind, sparking along his circuits as his body overloads. He feels the vents pop and steam at his shoulders. Thank God he was built to be waterproof. His body undulates with his short, sharp pants for air, almost muted beneath the roar of the water.

The hold on his thigh is released when he eventually comes down, shoulders sinking back into the cold water. Eyes still closed, he shivers and relinquishes his death grip on Jack, fingers sliding down his arm, not wanting to lose contact yet.

He hums gratefully when the water pressure eases to a warm stream, gentler than when Jack walked in. Genji sighs, easing himself back scant inches to give his flesh a break, water streaming down his upper thigh.

"Hell," Jack murmurs, warm palm stroking in admiration over the contoured planes of Genji’s stomach. Genji's whole body lights up with the begrudging praise.

The soothing flow of water is interrupted by the calloused hand that strokes down the carbon fibre plating of his pelvis. Two thick fingers slide into him without preamble, hooking up, curling forward and Genji throws his head back, his skull knocking the base of the tub hard enough to make Jack pause.

"You all right?" Jack asks, hint of laughter in his voice and, God, Genji didn't think the rough notes of that voice could do anything more to him.

A dull hurt registers at the back of his skull. It's minor. Already fading. His skull is reinforced now anyway.

"Don't stop," he whines, lifting his hips into the thrust of Jack's wrist, hearing himself squelch around Jack's fingers despite all the water continuously washing his slick away.

"We need to talk about the way you keep breaking in. Taking or using things that don't belong to you."

Jack pauses, a third finger slides in deep, and he tugs from the inside, pulling Genji's hips and clit directly back under that stream.

Genji's hands scramble for purchase on the lip of the tub.

"Fuck!" he pants, eyes squeezed shut as Jack's fingers seek and thrust through the sopping mess of his cunt, abusing internal nodes and sensors as he's held hostage to the steady, almost ticklish stimulation on his clit as well.

He's trembling, thighs tense, and he realizes the pleasure is coiling fast and tight again in his hips. He's close.

"I'm your Commander. Do I need to make it an order, Genji?"

The shape of his name on Jack's lips makes his hips jump, cunt fluttering around those fingers.

"You wouldn't last two weeks without me around your cock," Genji's voice is tight in his own ears, breathless, "Commander."

Jack's eyes narrow at him, gaze growing hot at the title. Genji wants to lick and kiss the scowl off his mouth, suck Jack's lower lip into his mouth until the old man is growling and ruining Genji’s mouth the way he ravages the rest of him. Consuming. Worshipful in his greed.

“You think I don’t know how to look after myself? The old man doesn’t know what to do with flesh?” Jack asks, but Genji notices that he does not take his bet.

He smirks at his Commander and regrets nothing when Jack adjusts the angle of his wrist and starts thrusting faster, spitefully hard, his knuckles grinding the floor of Genji's labia as his fingertips massage high where Genji's synthetic valve is spongy and soft, and it’s _perfect_ so fucking perfect, but some self-preserving conditions in Genji’s frame note it’s so soon after his first orgasm, and his thighs try to clench shut.

He bites his lip to stifle his whimper, head falling back, and rocks against Jack’s hand.

Jack is watching him.

"Keep them open for me," Jack says, low and rough, and he's using his Commander voice, the one that sends men to their death and makes Genji curl all molten inside. Jack knows, he must know, Genji would do almost anything for that voice.

Shaking, he reaches for his knees to keep them from closing. Pushes his feet back hard against the lip of the tub, splayed wide around the faucet and his vision whites out when Jack adds a fourth finger, his free hand pressing down and in from the outside just above the swell of Genji's pelvic bone. Genji’s world narrows to a single nerve cluster that Jack assaults both from within and without, tilts him up for water to continue rushing against his clit.

"Ah, ah, ah!"

Genji’s snaps, body seizing.

He wails, coming hard enough that it almost borders on painful as Jack fucks him through it, back lifting off the tub's base, bracing his weight on his shoulders. He feels himself gush hot around Jack's fingers, hips driving onto the piston of his hand.

Oh God. Oh... God.

“That’s it,” Jack says, quiet and entranced.

Genji whines, a long, body length shiver running through him as Jack holds him up from the inside, curled against that spot that keeps Genji gasping, ears ringing, jerking with every involuntary clench of his channel until he’s fighting to catch his breath, squirming away.

The hand over his pelvis slides under his back to bear him down. He shudders, the pleasured stupor hitting him hard as the fingers within him slow and gentle, finally withdrawing.

"Jack," Genji hums low at the loss. His eyes feel so heavy. He can barely move.

"Easy," Jack hushes him, voice low and soft. A lewd, sucking noise draws Genji’s eyes open, and Jack is drawing those four fingers out of his mouth, chasing Genji’s lingering essence, eyes still on the ninja’s face.

The hunger in Jack’s expression is startling. Genji reaches for him with a weak noise, arms leaden. Jack swarms him, mouth crashing against Genji’s lips. Genji can’t taste himself on Jack’s tongue when it thrusts inside, but he’s moaning anyway, heart singing just to have this small part of Jack.

A strong arm slides around Genji’s shoulders and pulls him away from the faucet. He registers the roar of the water at high pressure again, pleasantly warm at his ankles before Jack is climbing in behind him, gathering Genji to lean back against his chest, which is more complicated, slippery and fumbling than it needs to be when Jack won’t stop kissing him. 

Genji doesn't even care that Jack didn't bother removing his shirt or pants. He likes the idea that Jack was so desperate to get close that he couldn't spare the effort. The water sloshes noisily around them as they find space for the two of them in a tub intended for one. Finally breaking for air, Genji squirms comfortably, leaning his head back on Jack's shoulder, Jack's knees bent before them with Genji's legs spread around them.

Tucked against his back, Jack looks down at him with those brilliant, blue eyes. Searching the blissed glaze in Genji’s face, his expression is that little bit stern even now, as he pushes the matted black hair back from his forehead. Genji doesn't even feel scolded anymore. He feels safe here, safe and sated and languid, and he's going to milk it until Jack orders him out. He would obey, despite what Jack probably thinks.

Jack's hand slides up under his jaw, tilting him back for another kiss.

Genji smiles, eyes sliding shut, lips parting. Jack’s groan into his mouth is low and pure hunger. Calloused hands knead lines of comfort down Genji's chest and stomach to palm at his inner thighs, tug him close against Jack's hips and the hot bulge of his erection.

Jack's pants have been pushed low around his knees. Genji shoves them off the rest of the way with his foot, tosses the sopping wet clothes out of the tub to land on the tiles with a heavy smack.

Genji only catches a glimpse of Jack’s red, weeping length before the man is burying his face back in Genji’s neck, forcing Genji’s gaze up to stare at the slate grey ceiling in every room of the Watchpoint.

"You're hot, old man," Genji grins as Jack's teeth worry the synthetic cords and flesh of Genji's nape, grinding hot against Genji's ass.

“And you’re still a brat,” Jack growls, guttural as Genji reaches between his legs, lifting himself to slide Jack's cock against the lips of his entrance, back and forth. The water moves in small waves with Genji's movements.

He throws an arch look over his shoulder. “And who wants to fuck this brat? I was fine by myself before you walked in here, Jack.”

The water sloshes, and Jack’s hand skims up the inside of his thighs, cupping Genji against him, slightly vengeful in his strength.

“Your little cock is all red and used, but you’re still hard, aren’t you?” Jack breathes into his ear, and Genji thrills at his word usage – fuck, he actually remembered – then, the way the thick head of Jack's cock catches and slides against the rim of his hole, nudges against his sensitive clit.

The strange comfort of Jack’s arousal pressed against him in a solid, unyielding heat elicits a low noise of pleasure in Genji's chest. He closes his eyes, Jack warm against his back, and lets himself be held.

"You still slick enough down here?" Jack's fingers slide down, stroke up on either side of his entrance, teasing the swollen, puffy lips.

Again, Genji smirks at the man over his shoulder. "Try me."

Jack raises a scarred eyebrow and looks up to the pressurized shower head on the long cord above them.

One day, Genji will learn not to test this man. Jack Morrison headed a strike team for an international peace keeping effort, survived decades of politics, a bombing, and multiple assassination attempts. He will definitely, always, wring Genji within an inch of his life to teach his ass a lesson.

Genji reflects on this as he writhes in Jack's lap five minutes later, head thrown back against his shoulder as Jack holds his hips, thrusting roughly in and out of him on a slick, hot slide. Genji's legs are parted and raised, hands under his knees with feet braced on the slippery edges of the tub.

"Hold them there," Jack had ordered before directing the shower head straight to his throbbing clit, with its massage pressure stream of water.

Genji sobs, trembling with each slow, heavy thrust. Jack fills him up so well, his chest feels tight, the throbbing heat of him pushes coherent thought from Genji’s head, whittles his words down to bitten out pleas and whimpers to keep going, harder, _Jack._

He never gets tired of seeing how wide Jack can spread him, lips of his cunt tugging along that length when Jack nearly slips out, swirls the head of his cock at Genji’s entrance, then drives back in with a gritted moan. Jack’s taking his goddamn time, and he's doing it on purpose, thick girth dragging against Genji at the wrong angle, so good but so desperately close to where Genji really needs him. Jack’s hips jog every time the high-pressure stream accidentally catches himself on the upstroke. Genji is so wet, so sensitive, he thinks the tiny, jerking thrusts are going to end him.

"Ngh, Jack, _please_ ," Genji whines into the sweaty skin of his neck, stomach tightening as Jack groans hotly into his ear.

"So you do have manners," Jack huffs, and Genji would stare at him ( _“I’m not impressed”)_ if Jack wasn't deflecting focus with his tongue in Genji's mouth, and God -- speared on Jack's cock, strong hand winding into his hair, Jack could ask him to hang up his pride, and Genji would do anything so long as he could come one last time.

“Please,” Genji begs again.

Jack trembles. The kiss deepens, shower head clattering down into the bath as Jack's freed hand reaches down between them.

Genji cries out when Jack's hand tugs beneath his thigh, correcting the angle of his thrust. Genji almost bolts to sit upright, releasing his thighs to grasp for the porcelain edge. Jack rolls in against that high cluster of nerves, and they moan together. Lightning races up and down Genji’s spine, tightening his stomach, making him lurch with pleasure.

"Oh," Genji moans, shivering, "Ahhhh, fuck...."

Those powerful hands stroke up beneath his armpits, drawing Genji back against Jack's soaked tanktop.

"Stay with me, sweet boy," Jack croons against his temple, barely a breath of sound but it's as good as liquid sex poured into his ear, scraping with the shadow of his beard, and Genji stiffens, clutches the hands on his chest. He bows his back to stay close and keep the angle that makes him clench every time Jack drives in with a harsh exhale in his ear.

"Right here," Genji assures him, closing his eyes as Jack's hips stutter to short, sharp thrusts, and his vision starts to blur with bliss. Jack’s hand dives beneath the water again, and Genji jolts at the fingers that close around his clit, pinching and swirling it in small circles. The ninja whines, body tightening, pushing his thighs as wide as they can spread in the limited space. "Fuck, Jack--yes-- oh, please, Command-- _ngh_! Jack!"

"Fuck you are so beautiful... and such a pain in my ass," Jack groans, mouthing hot at his temple, sucking in the scarred lobe of his ear.

Genji would preen if Jack wasn't fucking high, breathless noises from his throat, sucking the synthetic skin of Genji's neck between his teeth, lathing it mindlessly with tongue and wet, sucking kisses as though he could inflict real bruises on such a perfectly re-engineered being.

The idea that Jack Morrison doesn't remember or doesn't care what he is. That he would make Genji wear his marks in public. It sends him over.

The bathwater sloshes as Genji thrashes in his release, howling. Jack growls low into Genji's neck, holding him close enough to fuse them together as the martial artist clenches and spasms around him.

Jack continues grinding into him through the first seconds before the pressure around his cock drags him over as well. He pulls Genji's thighs hard against him as his hips thrust sharp and quick, releasing deep inside.

Genji moans high in his chest. It's fucking decadent, the feeling of those hot ropes painting him on the inside, the way Jack's iron grip holds him down to make him take everything until his jerking hips have eked out the last of their aftershocks, and he deflates, panting across Genji's back.

It's a heady feeling. Genji feels claimed, sexy, safe and in control, but he also feels like he's floating away from his own body. He wants to stay here.

"Jack... Jack...." Genji winces, breathless, clutching to the muscled arms around him as Jack reaches past him to turn off the shower head.

Lips smear kisses at the top of his spine as Jack eases out of his body. Arms fold around him in a loose embrace, trailing warm water across his skin. A warm thrill of comfort runs through him as Jack sighs into his hair, pleased, "I got you."

Genji turns and Jack meets him for the kiss, holding and stroking each other as they come down from their high. For long minutes, it’s only the wet sounds of their mouths moving together, breaths slowing, and the steady _drip drip_ of water from the faucet.

When they finally part, Jack slowly kisses his cheek, his forehead, and Genji sinks back against him with a sigh.

Genji is at peace.

Jack nuzzles his nape. His words are murmured against Genji’s wet skin, prickles of his beard tickling. “So, about your breaking and entering.”

Genji grunts at the topic choice, stretching as well as he can in the short tub before squirming to get himself low in the water, conserving heat against Jack’s chest. He settles in as if to nap, and Jack gently tangles fingers in his hair for attention.

“Is that likely to let up anytime soon?” Jack asks. “Or should we talk about that?”

“Gibraltar’s security was always sub-standard,” Genji says, sleepily, nuzzling into Jack’s neck.

A warm hand strokes his hip below the water. “Genji. How do you continue convincing Athena to let you in to my quarters?”

Genji’s heart leaps to his throat, mouth dry.

He really hopes Athena doesn’t choose this moment to share how much she had observed of Genji since his return; how much she learned of them all. It has been a long time since Genji has lived among a God-level artificial intelligence. Their omniscient presence takes some time getting used to.

Athena sees everything.

Entry and exit logs. Training records and cafeteria visits. She logs mission and social gatherings, noting attendees, arrival times. Their appearance and vitals. Who speaks, who keeps their temper. And who, like Genji, betray nothing at all; except, Athena is sophisticated enough to register his heart rate, the way it spikes and how his face warms whenever Jack enters the room.

Genji wonders if she has kept recordings of all the times he and Jack have stumbled into a private space together, eager and hurried (and could he get a copy?). He was shocked to learn her analysis of the aftermath, too: the long minutes Genji would spend collecting himself once Jack had left, bringing his heart rate down, his dopamine and oxytocin levels apparently dipping at alarming rates as he worked through nine levels of shame, longing and heartache.

He really wants to know how Athena can even detect brain chemicals and hormone release.

It was strange to hear sympathy from such an articulated intelligence, without a face or form to attribute, but as Master Zenyatta would have said – form is temporary. To earn pity from one such as Athena before his own flesh and blood colleagues….

And some people said omnics and A.I. weren’t real people.

Jack is waiting for an answer, fingers carding in Genji’s hair. The martial artist swallows moisture down his throat.

“I bribed her with upgrades from the Shambali," he lies. 

Jack snorts a laugh and Genji smiles against his chest.

“5-2-8-4-1,” Jack says.

Genji blinks, craning back to look into his face. “What?”

Jack repeats the number sequence. “The passcode. For my quarters. If you’re going to keep breaking in anyway. Just don’t _break_ anything. And quit stealing my jacket.”

Genji blinks again, sitting up straight, cold air raising goosebumps on his shoulders. “Really?”

“Is the code too hard for you to remember?”

“No!” Genji says, maybe a little too quickly.

Jack nods, searching his face. He looks satisfied with whatever he sees. “Good. Now stand up, we need to shower properly.”

Genji smiles and allows himself to be pulled to his feet, the bathwater already gurgling away as Jack puts the shower head back in its rightful cradle and starts the hot, strong spray. The cyborg is more accustomed to oil baths, but he can do this, too. He won’t pass up any opportunity to let Jack pull him close and kiss him, sweet and long.

Afterwards, Genji is stumbling back to his own quarters on weak legs, and it occurs to him.

Did Jack just invite Genji to move in with him?

**Author's Note:**

> [Come visit on Tumblr!](https://bellsyblue.tumblr.com/archive)


End file.
